Page 34 of Keep Me Close

“And here?”

“Here, they actually wanted me to look good.” Her lips curve. “So, yeah… weird.”

A dull ache spreads through me at the admittance. I fucking hate that for her.

“But you had a nice time with them?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks again for introducing me to Kia.”

“No problem. I’m glad it worked out,” I say.

Her gaze stays locked on mine as I push away from the wall. “Did you end up finding something for Saturday?”

“I did.”

I jerk a brow. “Do I get a sneak preview?”

A mischievous smile dances across her lips as she shakes her head. “Nope. You’ll get to see it on Saturday along with everyone else.”

I close the remaining distance without thinking, stopping just short of her. Close enough for her faint, beachy scent to inundate my senses.

It’s equal parts heaven and hell.

I glance down at the papers clutched in her hand. “The lines you were running sounded pretty intense for a reality show. I didn’t realize it was so scripted.”

A shadow passes over her expression. “They can be, to a certain degree.”

“Whatever you were reciting didn’t sound like a scene from your show.”

She shrugs. “You only heard a few seconds of it.”

“I’d like to hear more,” I admit.

Disappointment fills me when she remains silent.

With a cock of my head, I search her eyes. “You don’t have to hide what you’re doing from me.”

Her chin lifts a fraction. “I’m not hiding anything.”

Yeah, she is, and that knowledge crawls beneath my skin. What I want is to know her secrets along with the other parts she keeps tucked away where no one can touch them.

Cheyenne shifts, and her sweater rises again, exposing that narrow band of sun-kissed flesh. That’s all it takes for my gaze to drop. After a moment or two, I realize I’m staring, and clear my throat, dragging my attention back to her face.

“You sure like wearing those midriff-baring shirts, don’t you?”

She smirks. “Yup. I have a closet full of them back home. Luckily for you, I brought a bunch with me.”

“Great.”

This woman is seriously trying to kill me. One midriff-baring top at a time.

In a surprising twist, she steps closer. “What’s wrong? You don’t like them?”

Now that we’re standing inches apart, I can see the faint flush staining her cheeks along with the steady rise and fall of her chest. The sunshine-beachy scent that slyly wraps around me is distracting as hell. All I want to do is lean in and suck in a lungful of her. It feels like I’ve been starving for her all damn day.

“Did I say that?” My voice comes out low and gruff.

Her gaze drops to my mouth for half a second before snapping back up again. The shift is subtle, but I still catch it. And fuck if that doesn’t send something hot and reckless spiraling through me.